


Millennium Auto

by evilwearsabow



Series: Millennium Auto AU [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auto Mechanic Poe Dameron, Auto Mechanic Rey, Automechanic!Poe, First Meet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fuck the Police, Happy Ending, M/M, Officer!Finn, Police Officer Finn, automechanic!Rey, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8055220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwearsabow/pseuds/evilwearsabow
Summary: If you take out the transmission, what's there to do left?(The one where Finn is an oblivious police officer, and Poe is a grease monkey.)





	Millennium Auto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My best friend Virginia](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+best+friend+Virginia).



    

* * *

 

It's his second day on the job in this big city and if he wasn't 100% sure that he didn't want this job before, it is safe to say he doesn't want it now. As this belligerent ass hole of a cop is blaring _Lil'Wayne_ on his clip-on stereo as if that would mean something to him. He has a walrus stash, powder under his nose, and a complexion like fucking microwaved pumpkin pie. As soon as he can, he finds a reason to get out of the car; which means stopping at a gas station for some coffee that tasted so rank he nearly spat it out all over himself. (Okay, he actually did that, but he got half of it out on the pavement, which had to be a good thing right?)

In short, Finn White, (yes, people give him such a hard time about his name) is a good guy, who got pressured by the orphanage into doing something for the community and he wanted to prove to them, to everyone, he could very well make it to an officers position. So, here he is, and its terrible, and the training made him puke in his mouth a little. He was stirred out of his reverie of his squishy, comfortable, couch at home by the halting of the squad car somewhere in the thick of town. It's a run down looking Auto shop with Amarillo signage and worn grey letters that he presumed were once black.

"Alright-y, Whitey, this is just a run of the mill check point. I like to make sure this shops papers are up to date, up to snuff, you know..." Lt. Walrus tells him, which isn't his name and not even close. But that's what Finn calls him in his minds eye, and that's what he was going to keep on doing. Especially with this 'routine' stop, which he knows is being targeted for its location. Yet, he doesn't say anything, walking in beside him as they enter the shops waiting room. A simple room with tile from the 60's and wood panel siding where there wasn't heavily tinted windows that you could see well out of but not inside of. The oldest looking soda machine in the city sat in the corner, 50 cents a can, which made Finn smile as he remembers fondly of the machine outside the orphanage of a similar fashion that was removed for scrap right when he was booted out at 18.

Walrus rings the bell, shifting in his stance, slipping his wrinkly hands onto his belt in a superior and intimidating fashion that always irked Finn, personally speaking. A figure emerges from the door that so-obviously led to the garage; big words spelt 'Garage' in worn cherry red.

"Well, I'll be damned, and its not doughnut day, Gregson, you should have called." The form had a pale blue towel over his head, abused in caked grease until he pulled it off and a pop of chocolate curls exaggerate from the pressure of the linen into humid air. What, the, fuck.

He lets a sly smirk pull on his features, caramel skinned, made ruinous with sweat and oil. An orange racer jacket from the 80's, undone to reveal a grey tank top sporting holes in random star-like pattern. This, guy, was like no other guy Finn had seen. On the Jacket, was a little name tag that said 'Dameron' which seemed a little personal, going out on a hunch Finn would say it was his last name.

Walrus, looked steamed up about the little comment, but ignores it in preference to give this guy a harder time.

"License and certificates, Dameron, you know the drill." He gruffly declares and Finn hates this guy already. Between him, starting the whole 'mr.whitey' joke around the station and his poor, racist, attitude? Finn looks at Walrus, then at Poe who keeps totally cool. A straight face. "Let me get them, officer. I keep them in my safe, I don't need thieves running around with papers for their own enjoyment, y'know?" This Dameron guy, who seemed awfully important, gets nothing but a nod of the affirmative.

Finn watches the other, who leisurely strides into the garage. Before he realizes, something about this guy, something, he doesn't know what... but he has an idea. Un-Clipping his walkie, while Walrus fiddles on his cell phone completely out of it into candy-crush. He drops the device and it clatters onto the ground, shattering the plastic around the antennae as intended. "Shit-ah- crap, sorry, I've got a double in the car. I'll be right back..." With a roll of his eyes, his new partner nods in the affirmative. "Right, I'll be here. Keep your eyes peeled, newbie." And that's all he needs before he's out the door and making a fast paced walk towards the squad car, slipping inside, and typing away on his sliding ledge computer. Watching conversation pour out on the screen, he changes their radio reception, grabs his other walkie (what? he always came prepared as he could.), and settles out. Hoping, that this works.

When he comes back inside, this brunette girl with sunburn on her cheeks is smiling awkwardly at Walrus who's looking more and more impatient as ever. "Okay, so, where's Dameron--" And just then, like heaven sent magic, their walkies start blaring with a report for them.

_"Sgt. Gregson. This is Gov Dispatch. Over."_

"What in the name of all that's--" Walrus looks at Finn, who plays the stupid just right. It's his favorite game, easy, and he doesn't have to talk; just act the stupid Finn.

_"Dispatch Gov. This is Sgt. What's your status. Over?"_

"Patrol, should be on my dispatch..."

_"Negative, Gregson. You're on call, we have a situation on Williams. Report. Over."_

"..." He looks so red in the face, oh my good god almighty, like Christmas ribbon and his stupid fuzzy _Elmo_ slippers. (Judge him, okay? They're awesome and comfy?)

"We're on it. Over-an-out." Walrus looks disgruntled, but not with him, which is lucky. Rey, looks almost fatigued until Walrus is looking right at her. "Well, tell Mr. Dameron I'll be back, and soon." As if it were just another happy little visit, contrary and all that. The girl, is now curiously watching him, he tips his hat, and follows Walrus into the car.

"I could have sworn I put our unit on patrol this morning..."

"Those damn electronics, am I right?" Finn responds, a sheepish smile.

"...Yeah, yeah you're right my man. Lets go get em'"

That whole sentence almost made his eyes invert and his brain melt. Jesus, don't start speaking and don't even think I like you. And yet, all Finn can manage is to be quiet despite the unease he feels around his new temp. 'partner.'

The next day, is his day off. Sure his schedule is weird, but they've given him odd-jobs this week because it's his first week. So, for some reason completely related to curious stupidity, Finn goes back to that Auto-shop. Only this time, he walks in and the Garage door is propped open and he can hear an argument echoing about inside. He blinks, something doesn't set right and he should probably get out of here. But the cop in him, say stay and make sure people are alright. He's in a white t'shirt, nice jeans, sweet red converse kicks and his wallet that has a chain leading to his belt and back pocket.

He walks in, slots his coins into the machine, presses for the strawberry crush that he didn't know existed anymore. So joyfully he opens the can and almost dumps it on himself when a close-up voice startles him half to death. "Hey--Oh--" A nice voice, its warm, almost sly in a way. Finn tries not to be clutzy, quickly trying to appear less... threatening. Which, was a funny thing for him to think because the way Poe is smiling, as if there's a joke here that Finn doesn't understand, is crawling under his skin in ways he hasn't ever felt before.

"You're that cop." Poe says, a little awe stricken for a moment, looking around, then up at Finn curious in one smooth second. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Ah- no, I mean, yes, I'm that cop, but no there's nothing much to help with. Except maybe my own crappy car." He laughs at his own stupid joke, but Poe's face levels. "You need someone to fix your car, that's why you got us out of that pinch yesterday." Not upset, but almost as if, as if this puzzled his actions together. Finn quickly looks shocked, lifting his hands up, nearly spilling his soda again. "No-no! I don't that was-- a joke. I just... I was curious that's all."

Poe blinks, crosses his arms, "About what?"

"About your shop, do you guys need, y'know, any help?" Finn pries, voice low, secretive towards the end of his question.

The other man laughs, a soft, kind sort of thing. "And how could you? I mean, we're not exactly the _Midas-touch_."

"What?" Finn gawks, unable to understand, and just hopes he didn't put his foot in his mouth. Again.

This time, the auto mechanic laughs hard, its real and pleasant and Finn thanks the lord for all his melanin; his cheeks are burning up with heat and he feels the sweat coming on.

"All I mean is, we don't have much, I got most of my things from my father. Even then, well, my supplies are limited and I make due with whatever I can manage..." Poe wafts his hand out a bit, apologetic of sorts. Then eying the can in Finns hand with a soft, reminiscent, smile of sorts.

Finn still appears mildly uncomfortable, almost horrified that he fucked up this much. This guy does what?

A sigh, as this curly haired cutie strings his fingers through his own hair, wow, he just thought those thoughts? Those were, uh, thoughts. Finn clears his throat, opens up to say something when Poe, thank heavens, starts to talk. Helping him along with the situation at hand, "Look, the only thing I can even think of-- if you could get Gregson off our ass until Friday. Then, yeah, maybe that would save us a lot of trouble..." Poe bites at his lower lip, then licks it in a way that sends a shudder through the other man's body something fierce.

"Uh-uh-yeah- yeah I think I can handle that."

Which, garners a surprised look out of Poe. Brows raised up, mouth pressing into a flat line almost as if he's wrestling his lips to do so; yes, Finn is paying detailed attention to his mouth for some reason. Which is a problem, and its not, at the same time because the auto-mechanic doesn't seem to care; that or is even paying attention.

"Yeah, maybe you can." Poe looks mildly convinced, but he's definitely been around the block enough to know not to trust someone completely. Especially as something as important as his own job. So Finn nods, getting hyped for his own emotional support. Because first off, no one ever seems to have faith in him. Even his so-called friends at the precinct laughed at him when he said he wanted to be a cop. With a huff, his smirks, "Yea, yeah I can." Nodding.

Poe laughs at that, for some reason. (Finn is completely unaware of his own endearing qualities, and it's not that he has a low self esteem its just that no ones ever told him he really had those; and the fact, that he's content in his own mediocrity.) "Alright buddy, I'll be here... good luck okay?"

* * *

 

 

Oh man, oh man, he really shouldn't have said he was going to do this! Dammit, dammit, dammit! His brain repeats to himself over and over in disgust with his own stupidity, and his own sense of importance. Because he told himself for the longest time that this job is what he wanted, that working some where to just make some kind of a difference was his life goal. But here he is, arresting a woman who stole because she was hungry and starving. Walrus seemed to give no shits, but Finn wants to just let her go. Really, today's been stressful enough without the fact that he'd have to help Walrus make the stop at Millennium Auto.

Once she's been booked and filed, they're on their way to the gritty part of town that Finn was particularly used to. His own apartment actually wasn't so far from here, and to be honest, he can't get his heart out of his own throat long enough to say anything more than yes or no. They get to the gas station, and a thought sort of flashes in his mind as he watches a teenage boy hop into his fathers pick-up truck. Excited, seemingly, as his father starts to teach him the mechanics of the inside of his truck. How to shift gears, move the steering wheel and use the pedals.

The memories of Poe Dameron's face when he, he just sort of, believed in him some how, repeats in his head now going in circles.

So, when 'Walrus' returns, cup of coffee and evidence of donuts on his shirt and face, it's no surprise to himself that he pipes up. "Hey, I'm gonna drive, alright? Enjoy your coffee, my man." A nod at him, trying to keep his cool as best he could. Which, wasn't terribly hard as he'd learned after all his training it was a necessity.

This is the stupidest, worst, bullshitiest, idea he's ever had but he's gonna do it.

It starts with ease when he turns the corner onto the prescribed street, the yellow roofing a testimony to the things he has to do next.

Once he gets closer, he makes a gasping noise, wincing, acting it up as much as he could. Grabbing his own wrist, making sure to spin the wheel of the car out of whack in a way that looked accidental as possible. Walrus screams like a fucking chick, and scrambles against the side door and dash like he's a trapped chicken, as they swerved right into 3 mailboxes before hitting a fire-hydrant hard enough to make a dent 8 inches deep in the middle of their front bumper.

Finn winces, grabbing his wrist in pain, still, hamming it up by 'painfully' placing the vehicle on park. As gushing water starts to geyser out into the street, and people begin to exit their buildings in attempt to decipher what went wrong to this lone squad car. "Shit-shit, White, what the fuck just happened?"

"I dunno man, man, shit, If I knew think I'd be saying something about now?" Acting up anger in the face of his pretend pain, which only makes Walrus back off. "Jesus Christ, alright, I'll call the precinct, let them know our status and for Christ sakes--- do you need an ambulance?" Watching in cautiousness, stress obviously in his features. Finn shakes his head liberally. "Nah, nah man, I'll need a few officers to take me for a report and a medical eval. man, this shit hurts---"

Which was Walrus' cue, to get out and get soaked. Soon the first responder shows, anyway, because of the situation itself. As they fix the hydrant, and get Finn out of the squad car in question. Checking his wrist, filing the report, meanwhile, with a blanket tucked around his shoulders; he catches a glimpse of the curly-haired man. Standing out front of his establishment, wide eyed and in awe. They don't lock eyes, nothing is to be said, but they both saw each-other that Friday afternoon and no one had any idea exactly why this young new officer had the best day of his life during a car accident.

* * *

 

 Lt. Phasma sat, stacking files onto the corner of her desk. Neatly, she had a strong air and sat straight as a board. Her hair was platinum blond and pulled back tight and severe. With all her medals and commendations on the wall, Finn walked into this office not sure how she'd react after everything. He figured she never really liked him anyway, so, he fiddled with his jean pockets and stood. Deciding he wouldn't sit, because he wasn't going to be here for very long. With a deep pull from his lungs, he nods as if talking himself up to do the unthinkable.

There's a wrist brace on said 'sprained wrist,' which is what the doctor concluded. And, it saved his ass despite the little slap on the wrist from their superior Ben Solo. At any rate, he still didn't feel comfortable about this whole thing any more. So, here he is; in front of the only superior officer actually on duty right now. Seeing as it isn't an emergency or anything, he figured this would  do.

"Lieutenant Phasma?" He almost stammers, managing to say it stronger than expected. With strong, fierce, eyes she looks him up and down, peculiar.

"What is it, make it quick."

Clearing his throat, he places his gun and badge on the desk. "I just don't think this department is a clean fit with me, and my body is--" Shrugging. "Being weird."

"Being weird?"

"It's...personal. Sir." He looks down at this feet, then up at her.

"..."

She doesn't look happy, at all, pissed even. But huffs, a breath through her nose. "With all the trouble you've caused, know you will not be accepted back into our department."

Jesus, this is a big move.

Nodding, he looks even more determined. "I understand. Thank you, and, tell the boss I said sorry and... thanks." He turns on out of the office, walking a fast pace to his bike. He doesn't want to talk to anyone, not a damn soul, and walks out of the office like he's on a mission and no one could get in his way. This works, really it does, which he's thankful for.

Somehow he feels as if he's escaped this place, and then on the other hand, something just feels slimy and weird; he never wants to come back again that's for sure. He grabs his motor bike, a small blue crotch rocket. Pushing off and into the freeway, not sure where the hell he's going or what the hell he's doing. Finn doesn't know how he's gonna pay rent, or any of that shit. But it's still better than working at that hell hole, so he drives further down the road to park just on the corner of that very same street. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, cautious of anyone that might be watching. It's late, already 8 p.m. and the very next day after the debacle with the hydrant and his shitty ex-co-worker.

The humidity is cloyingly efficient at making his skin feel like he's melting, but, at least its not dry and cold. This, he could handle to be honest; so he walks on through the heat and towards the shop with vague curiosity. Keeping his head down, just trying not to appear suspicious or like he's about to rob some place. Which is silly, but it's also why he forgone the hoodie. Even though he likes wearing his jackets no matter the weather, definitely didn't help with his 'appearance.'

Well, that thought makes him physically roll his eyes...snapped out of his thoughts to see that familiar head of hair, closing a garage door and locking it up for the night. Finn watches, curiously, slipping his hands in his pockets cause he doesn't know what else to do with them. Should he say hi? Just walk on away, don't look? This guy doesn't owe him shit, not even a welcome, so its not as if...

"Oh!" Poe stops in his tracks, wearing that same racing jacket but its unbuttoned and unzipped all the way down. His white tank top exposes thick black curls at his chest and around his neck. The tight jeans covered in oil and stuff, didn't do much to hide the shapely legs. Finn, winces, squinting away to keep from becoming fidgety and weird, he doesn't wanna get weird around a hot guy. That's just a bad idea, plus, he doesn't know if this guy is like... even into that. Which broaching the topic could lead to a fight, and that itself could lead to the cops being called. He needed, to just calm the fuck down.

"Uh, hi." Finn says.

Yep, he's awkward; he keeps walking but Poe, who's looking around and almost flabbergasted follows him, a quick jog over to Finn. Standing right in front of him, looking endearingly uncertain, but also, so suave. How the hell does this guy pull it off, this is just not fair, how is he biting his lip like this. Finn wants to go home and watch netflix with a beer, beer isn't gonna bite its lip seductively.

Beer is cold, and doesn't give him boners, and he doesn't have to worry about awkward messy breakups on his cozy maroon couch, tucked under a pile of blankets. He can even jerk off in peace, thank you very much.

"Wait...I..."

Finn stands there quietly.

"You--" Squinting, looking at Finn as if he's trying to puzzle him. That same look like he's getting a read, trying to decipher Finn. "You, did you crash your squad car. To keep my shop from being shut down?" Something about his eyes, they're fucking sparkling in inner city ghetto zone street lights. This is great, great, now he's making poetry in his fucking head. Looking around, then back at him; "Nah- just- my hand. Messed up you know? Practicing in the range, and stuff."

Poe crosses his arms, "Yeah, yeah, I feel you...you, uh, going back to work?" Still biting furiously at a lower lip that has Finn crying on the inside like an angry 16 year old girl at a concert she's been waiting her whole life for.

"Ah-nah, I quit." He shrugs.

Poe blinks.

"So, you? Are you going to another precinct or something?"

"No, no I really, uh, quit."

It's a moment of silence, and the sound of sirens in the distant are just a fond memory. Right? Poe smiles a little, "Come on inside... I'm kinda tired and I'd rather sit and talk. Y'know, if you don't mind?"

"Yes, I mean, if you're cool with that..." Trying to catch and save himself from the speaking too quickly and walking face first into that one.

Poe just seems to bubble up with excitement from that, wafting him into the back door and into what would look like a small closet turned break-room. It's got shelves lined with lots of stuff from cup noodles, phone books, a few decks of cards, a blanket that looks worn out, old VHS' and other necessities of the broke and fabulous. Finn smiles, being slightly reminded of the orphanage. "Sorry-uh- it's a mess..."

"Nah, it's perfect... oh my god! You have Lion King on VHS--" Eyes wide, then blinking as if snapping out of it. "Ah- shit, sorry its a bit of a weak--"

"It's my favorite." Poe gives a half smile, sly, amused eyes. "Wanna watch it with me, I'll grab a few beers?"

Eyes wide, Finn nods excitedly. "Yes, oh my god, yes, holy shit man, are you serious right now?"

"Yeah, I'm seriously serious." Tossing the VHS at Finn, and going to the fridge shoved in the corner. He opens the bottles with his hands, and plops on the couch lazily. "Today, right?"

"Yeah, yeah man." Finn rewinds, then presses play. Smiling vividly at the screen, forgetting that he's standing in front of it until Poe clears his throat.

He turns back, and the sight of Poe slouched over and back on that couch is to die for. A little nervous, he shakes it off from his shoulders and joins him, before he knew it, they're immersed in the jungle. Laughing at Timone and Pumba's antics, and the hyena's that Poe can mimic horrifyingly so with their laugh.

"Okay, no, that shits creepy man, just--" They're both laughing through that, but Finn doesn't know whether to be horrified or hysterical. Poe's just so cute, and they're both onto their third beer, and Poe is a little tipsy; Finn holds his better. Funnily enough.

"Mnf, No, no I just learned that from drama class."

"You, in drama class?" Finn snorts, "Yeah, yeah, me in drama class, what I don't look good enough for you, pretty boy?"

Finn had just gone in for another sip, when somehow like a universal constant, he snorts beer out through his nose. No one has ever called him a 'pretty boy' before, but Poe is laughing. Snort laughing, actually, and well, its more giggly than he expected. He holds his chest when he does it, covers his face, not enough melanin to cover the crimson in his cheeks.

Poe has slowly but surely, been leaning into Finn. He's touchy feely, grabbing his shoulder, squeezing, nudging in, and now he's got his head on his shoulder. Which, Finn says nothing about. But he keeps clenching and un clenching his fingers to control himself and anything stupid he might do.

"Hey, Finn."

He turns and nearly has a heart attack, seeing that Poe is so close and in his face with those eye lashes longer than his own damn dick. What the fuck, is that even fair?

"Yeah?"

Batting his lashes, he's biting his lower lip again, and then, they're kissing.

Okay, so, he didn't even think this was possible. That this was his life, that he could even have his first kiss right here, right now, its going down and he's so prepared. Been kissing his hand and working himself up for this moment right, fucking, here, lets do this shit right now. And he leans in, placing his big hands onto the back of Poe's head and neck, shaking like a leaf while he takes his kiss without any qualms.

Poe is shocked right back, but joins in with more gusto, placing both hands on the other mans chest, gripping onto the t'shirt. His kiss is more suave, passionate, sweet, and Finn is just excited and new. But it makes for a wonderful stop, because Simba is singing with Nala and Poe looks a little hesitant and worried. Biting at his lower lip, looking away so Finn grabs his hand, squeezes. "Hey, you alright?"

Poe laughs, its shocked and amused. "Yeah-- yeah, m'fine. Sorry about that..."

"What, you didn't wanna kiss?"

"No!" Poe yelps, then with eyes wide. "I mean, well, yeah I did... I started it, remember?"

Finn smiles shyly, and messes with the others curls because he's been wanting to do that since the moment he saw Poe.

"Need a job, Finn?"

Finn looks shocked, "Are you serious? I don't know nothing about cars..."

"Well, then I'll teach you. I also need help with the front desk, we lost our receptionist and now I'm down to me and Rey... she's, really nice. You'll like her."

They take a moment, not looking at each other and yet still they were so close.

"Ask me tomorrow, when, you know, you're not under the influence?"

Poe snorts at that, "Oh my god, who says 'under the influence' anymore..."

"Sh-shut up..."

"Okay, okay, I'll ask you tomorrow but--" That fucking stupid lip biting thing again and Finn wants to flip off every god in existence right about now.

"What?"

"I can still kiss you, right?" A positively dirty look on his face, so Finn leans in to wipe it right off and pummels him back into the couch spryly. Kissing, just, the most incredible amount of making out he never thought he'd like so much.

* * *

 

 

He can't tell what time it is because there aren't any windows, and the tv is blue screened; meaning it must of rewound itself and played again. Finn shudders, realizing that Poe is on top of him and snoring into his chest with his racing jacket over the both of them. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, looking down to make sure he isn't dreaming.

"Mnn, Finn."

The curly headed mess groans, turning his head the other way, unabashedly sleepy. "Yous'till gonna work f'me?"

Finn huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. His once wide eyed shock, turns to sleepiness. Kissing the top of this dorks head, and loving every minute of it.

"Yeah, sure, just don't hate me when I fuck up."

"You won't, you're really cool, Finn."

And something in his chest seizes up, and its tight and conflicting. He aches, just, right in the center; wrapping one arm around the other, and squeezing a little.

"You're pretty cool too, Poe, really cool." He lays there in a half daze, without a care in the world.

For once in his life.

 

 


End file.
